Madrid

Hello to all of our followers. Now, I know many people who were reading this blog consistently will not have hung around to see this final blog on Madrid. The fact of the matter is that after so many weeks of non-stop traveling, we were exhausted. So when we returned, we allowed a few weeks to go by before feeling that nagging urge to finish what we started. This blog will do just that.
I, Whitney, didn't have very high expectations for Madrid. We heard it was going to be outrageously hot, very touristy, and lacking in things to keep us busy with. So when we arrived in the capital of Spain on the 11th and final leg of our Busabout trip, we weren't terribly excited to be there. Too, we had just left our favorite city on the trip, Barcelona, and it would be hard for Madrid to beat that.
The first night, we got to our terribly cramped hostel and set up camp, but we soon found that there were somewhat upscale hotel rooms available for the same price, so we quickly made reservations and planned to end our stay at Mad Hostel in Madrid as soon as possible. We ate a cheap dinner at a pizza place down the street from the hostel and went upstairs to the terrace atop the hostel to see what and whom we would find. To our happy surprise, we met our roommate Kevin with whom we shared 5 nights in Nice. He and acquired a few other friends along the way, and after chatting a while about our pets back home, he told us that he and his friends were on their way to see the Red Light District in Madrid.
Well, Collin and I never pass up an opportunity to take a look-see at scantily clad femmes, so we invited ourselves to tag along, which was met with a hearty "of course!"
We wandered the well-lit streets after night had fallen in the busy capital city. We wandered, picked up a few souvenirs, and tried to find the right street.
In Madrid, the Red Light District is poorly named. It should really be called the Lamp Post District because the ladies are lined up by trees and lamp posts and any other vertical object until they find another that better suits their needs.
Unfortunately for us, it was a Sunday, and heaven knows that even working girls need to observe the sabbath. So we went home only having seen a few girls in sky-high heels and barely-there skirts. But we knew that that night would be the last we spent in a hostel and the last we would be able to connect with other travelers our age--especially those with whom we had developed a friendship. We meandered down the city streets until we found ourselves back at the ranch. We parted ways and vowed to keep up on Facebook, which we made sure to do.
Collin and I went upstairs and held a conversation in both French and Spanish with our French roommate before climbing into our tiny bunks and sleeping in a hostel for the last time.
In the morning, we checked out and devised a transit plan to get to our hotel. After a few minutes on the internet, Collin, yet again, whisked us down the metro routes and landed us at the nicest place we'd stayed all summer.